


hell nah (been waiting too long)

by Anonymous



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, First Time Bottoming, M/M, that's all folks, this is two 20 year old dudes having slightly awkward but immensely affectionate sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 05:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14465565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “So, uh,” Auston says, trying not to dwell on the ridiculousness of having a serious conversation while he’s this keyed up and Mitch is still like an inch away from his dick. “What it is, brah?”





	hell nah (been waiting too long)

Marns spends, like, twenty minutes going to town on Auston’s dick, which is how Auston knows he’s nervous. And okay, far be it from Auston to complain about a blowjob, but-

“Hey.” He tugs at Mitch’s hair, which is a pretty impressive show of muscle control, in his opinion, since every nerve in his body is currently centred on his dick.

Mitch pulls off of him with this wet sound, and his lips are all red and shiny with spit, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looks fucking _filthy_ , and Auston nearly shoots his load right there at the sight of him.

 “sup,” Mitch says, conversational.

It takes Auston a second to remember how to make words. “Are you ever going to fuck me?”

Mitch leans his head on Auston’s thigh, peering up at him. It’s like- it feels like a really intimate thing, which is dumb since his mouth isn’t even on Auston’s dick anymore, but it’s the truth. “Do you actually want me to?”

“I asked, Mitchy.” Auston reminds him, patient.

“Yeah,” Mitch says, and Auston waits, but he doesn’t say anything else. They’re talking in low voices, the hotel room quiet around them, dark except for the lamp between the two beds.

“We can obviously do other stuff, if you don’t want-”

“Shut up, that’s not it.” Mitch cuts him off, and that’s all well and good, but he also doesn’t move to touch Auston again, so it’s obviously _something_.

“So, uh,” Auston says, trying not to dwell on the ridiculousness of having a serious conversation while he’s this keyed up and Mitch is still like an inch away from his dick. “What it is, brah?”

Mitch makes a face. He must be really lost in thought about this, because he doesn’t even pity-laugh, which is fair because Auston’s not even sure that was funny enough to count as humour, but. Still.

It takes Mitch a second. “I don’t get it,” he says, like he’s admitting something. “Like, are you offering so I’ll let you do it back?”

“Oh,” Auston says, caught off guard. “Like, no?”

Mitch talks real fast. “’Cause I mean, I’d get that, and that’s- like, obviously I want shit to be fair, but I don’t- that’s not appealing, I don’t want you- or, like, anyone, it’s not just you-”

“Marns,” Auston cuts in, firm, stops him before he can talk himself in circles. “If I wanted to fuck you I’d say that instead of asking you to fuck me.”

“So you’d say no if I offered,” Mitch says, like he’s proving a point, and Auston sighs.

“I mean, no, but it’s not- this isn’t like, me taking one for the team.” He holds Mitch’s gaze, tries to convey how much he’s telling the truth here, because he is. “I want to.”

Mitch is still frowning, staring at Auston like he’s expecting a punchline. “Why?”

“Because it’s hot?” Auston shrugs, helpless. “Because you’re hot? I don’t know, man.” He doesn’t have a good answer for this, doesn’t know if a good answer to ‘why do you want me to fuck you’ even exists. Like, he gets where Marns is coming from, ‘cause he knows Mitch thinks a lot about how people perceive him, and this is a whole lot different than anything they’ve done before, limited to hands and mouths and a couple fingers, one time, but it’s also just- Auston did his gay panic thing years ago, and he’s been over being nervous about this for months, and he finally has a stupid-hot boyfriend and he just wants for Mitch to fuck him, like, yesterday. He wants to _know_.

“What if it hurts?” Mitch asks, low, tracing circles on Auston’s hip. “I want it to be good.” He says it all chivalrous, like they haven’t been jerking each other off dry in living rooms or airport bathrooms since last year. And Auston wants to chirp him for how soft he’s being, but it’s also like, really sweet that it’s that important to Mitch that Auston has a good time, and wow, Auston’s heart feels so fond it’s going to burst.

Priorities, Matthews.

“If it sucks I’ll tell you to stop,” he says, reaching down and tugging Mitch up the bed so they’re eye-to-eye. “You know I will. But I think it’ll be good?”

They hold each other’s gaze for a long moment. Auston doesn’t know what Mitch is looking for, exactly, but he must find it, because he kind of laughs, shaking his head a little.

“You’re so weird,” Mitch says, and he leans down and kisses Auston, this gentle thing that heats up quick, both of them still mostly ready to go from earlier.

Mitch is bracketed on top of Auston, kissing him open-mouthed and slow, and he hums appreciatively when Auston pulls him down enough for them to grind up against each other. It’s this addictive kind of friction, better when Mitch kicks off his boxers, and Auston’s world narrows to the heat between them.

Mitch’s voice sounds all out of breath when he says, without really pulling back, “You’re still really hard, huh?”

“That may have something to do with you sucking me off for almost half an hour,” Auston says, dry, and Marns rolls his eyes – whatever, he _knows_ his mouth is unfair – and licks into Auston’s mouth again, running his hands all over Auston like he’s mapping him out.

Auston’s half-expecting to have to bring the fucking thing up again, but Mitch is the one who trails a hand down to Auston’s ass and lingers there, teasing.

“Marns,” Auston says, because he’s above begging, but not that far above it, and for once Mitch isn’t a dick about it, just reaches for the lube at the bedside table and like, _douses_ his hand in way more than would ever be necessary, ever. “For real?”

“Shut up,” Mitch grumbles good-naturedly, and Auston grins, angles himself so Mitch can slip one finger into him.

They’ve done this much before, and Auston’s done it to himself, and he knows he likes it. And, like, he won’t admit it, but the excess lube is kind of nice, makes things slick and easy and somehow hotter, which- sure, why not.

Auston gets a hand in Mitch’s hair, pushing it back and just kind of holding him, tender. “You can do another one.”

“Easy,” Mitch chirps, but the next time he presses into Auston it’s with two fingers, and it’s a little bit more of a stretch, but in a good way, and it stays good when Mitch starts fucking him with his fingers. He goes real slow, working Auston open, working his way up to three fingers, going faster once he finds the spot that makes Auston gasp. So, _so_ much better than doing this to himself, holy shit.

He’s not going to last, like this.

“C’mon,” Auston says, because ‘I want to come on your dick’ is kind of forward, even for them. Mitch gets the message, pulls back and gets his fingers out of Auston, leaving him with the empty feeling, like wanting. Needing, a little.

“How d’you want-” Mitch says, and Auston thinks about it, then shoves Mitch off of him, so he can roll onto his stomach. It’s kind of undignified, turned over with his ass up in the air, but it’s Marns. It’s _them_.

He can hear Mitch opening a condom, then the little bottle of lube; has to dig his nails into his palms to stop himself reaching down to jerk himself off and ruining the whole thing before they can get started.

The mattress creaks as Mitch scoots closer to him. “You sure, dude?” he asks, one hand on Auston’s back.

“Just do it already,” Auston says, impatient, and Mitch hums, all thoughtful.

“I feel like I should say something?” he muses. “Like, ‘cowabunga’.”

“I literally hate you so much,” Auston says, after a moment of stunned silence – fucking cowabunga, he’s going to kill him – but they’re both giggling, and it’s maybe exactly what they needed to break the last remaining bit of tension, so it doesn’t feel like a huge scary thing when Mitch finally pushes into him, just a little bit, like. Okay. This is a thing that’s happening.

Auston can tell Marns is waiting for him to tell him what to do, so he does. “Just- stay there, for a minute.”

Auston’s not sure what he was expecting. It’s kind of- it’s a whole different thing than fingers, obviously, shape and size and everything, and the fact that most of the rest of Mitch is pressed up against Auston’s back now, what with being attached to his dick and all. It’s not painful, really, just a little like after working out, this stretch that Auston leans into, has to get accustomed to. It’s new. It feels- fuck, he doesn’t know, something cheesy, like being connected, like there’s literally no way to be closer to another person than he is to Marns, right now.

He likes it, he decides. Like, conceptually, and also mostly practically, and in the time it takes Auston to get to that conclusion, Mitch taps him on the side.

 “What does it feel like?” he asks, kind of hushed.

Auston doesn’t roll his eyes, but he comes real close. “Kind of like there’s a dick in my ass, Marns, now that you mention-”

“Smartass,” Mitch chides, but he kind of shifts when he does so, and it’s not even intentional but his dick like, drags inside of Auston, and it’s enough that Auston can’t hold back a breathy, completely objectively humiliating sort of gasp.

Mitch freezes. He sounds mortified, like he thinks he did something wrong. “Sorry,” he says. “Sorrysorrysorry, you said to stay still-”

“Shut up,” Auston says, eyes squeezed shut. “Shut up, that was-”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Do it again,” Auston says, and there’s a second of silence before Mitch does this stunned kind of giggle, and Auston’s so fucking _happy_ , here with him like this, which is maybe weird, but it’s the truth, and he’s smiling when Mitch moves in him again, pulls almost all the way out so Auston aches for him, then back in. He keeps doing that, these shallow thrusts, and Auston’s arching back into him in spite of himself, pressing his face into the pillow and not quite managing to hide this torn out, desperate sound.

“Oh my god,” Mitch says, and he sounds, like, in awe. “You’re- Matts, you’re the hottest thing in the world, holy-”

Auston can’t even chirp Mitch for marvelling at the wonders of his ass or whatever, no matter how much he wants to. “Move,” he gets out, “Move more, like-”

“Yeah,” Mitch says, and no one could ever accuse the guy of being a slow learner, because he just goes for it, fucks into Auston deeper than before, harder, then does it again and again ‘til they’ve got a rhythm going.

It’s _so much_ , enough that Auston’s biting his pillow so he won’t make noises, because it’s not like there’re roommates to worry about, but there are also still, like, forty other people and every one of their teammates staying on this floor, none of whom Auston particularly wants to know what he sounds like when he’s getting fucked.

And _god_ , is he getting fucked; Mitch is moving more confidently now, getting faster, really pushing all the way in so Auston feels more full than he even thought was possible.

 “You’re so good at that, Mitchy,” he says, after a minute or ten or an hour of that, because he knows that Marns likes the approval. Mitch kisses his shoulder blades, does this little scrape of teeth that makes Auston shiver.

“Matty,” Mitch breathes against him, mostly nonsense. Auston gets the message.

He kind of wants to see if he could come just from getting fucked, but that’s an experiment for another time, because Mitch reaches around and starts jerking him off, clumsy. And Auston wants this to last approximately forever, but he’s been on a hair trigger since maybe two minutes into Mitch getting his mouth on his dick. It’s frankly impressive that he’s held out this long; now, between Mitch’s hand and his dick in Auston and the rest of him plastered real close, Auston comes embarrassingly fast, before he can even warn Mitch.

He, like. Sees stars. Not in a romantic, metaphorical way. Literally just comes hard enough that everything goes all sparkly, and his knees are legitimately weak, and- _fuck,_ it’s good.

“I’m gonna-” Mitch says, and it takes Auston a second.

“Yeah,” he says, half out of his mind, and reaches back to get a hand on Mitch’s thigh, blindly seeking out skin to touch. “C’mon, Marns-”

Mitch fucks into him a couple more times, fast and desperate, and then he’s coming too with a gasped out, “ _Fuck_ ,” making these little sounds that Auston wants to live in. If Auston hadn’t just orgasmed, this would do it, he thinks, because having someone come in his ass is exactly as hot as he hoped it would be, and he’s oversensitive enough that it’s teetering on the edge of too much, so he just shuts his eyes and feels it.

He doesn’t want to _stop_ feeling it; is already wondering how long it’ll be ‘til they can go again when Mitch eventually groans, stretches without pulling out of Auston.

“I’m all gross,” he says.

“So go get clean,” Auston says, and Mitch sighs, petulant, against his back.

“Don’t wanna,” he gripes, and Auston snorts a laugh, but he also gets it, because it sounds like the worst concept in the world, not being this close to each other anymore. Still, they’ve got an early flight tomorrow, and passing out covered in jizz will probably feel a lot less nice at six AM. Mitch must have the same thought process, because he gets up off of Auston, takes a second to peel off the condom before grabbing at one of their discarded t-shirts – better not be Auston’s – and wiping at Auston’s chest, then at where the lube is drying between his legs. That’s about it as far as cleanup goes: Mitch barely stays up long enough to fling the t-shirt toward their suitcases before he’s climbing back on the bed, tucking himself up at Auston’s side.

Auston curls around him, settling easy into something familiar, and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then to his temple; traces the top of Mitch’s ear, real gentle. He just stays there and breathes, feels his heartbeat going back to normal.

It feels like recalibrating, a little. Coming down together.

Auston doesn’t realize he’s grinning ‘til Mitch calls him on it.

“You’re smiling so big,” he says, kind of amazed, and reaches up to touch Auston’s cheek, soft enough that it’s basically asking to be chirped for the rest of forever. “You really liked that.”

“Yeah,” Auston says, simple, matching his volume. It’s the truth – his ass feels like it’s maybe going to be sore in the morning, and he doesn’t remember being this tired after sex before, but he also just feels _happy_ , way deep in his bones, like he’s here with his favourite guy and they just earned, like, a gay merit badge or something.

Mitch looks bemused. “You really like _me_ , huh?”

“You’re alright,” Auston agrees, and he tucks a strand of Mitch’s hair back, fond. “You like me too.”

It’s not really a question, but Mitch nods anyways. “I _really_ like you, too,” he corrects; then, “Really, really, really-”

“I believe you, dumbass,” Auston says, and now they’re both smiling at each other, this tiny, up-close, intimate thing. Auston doesn’t want to turn the lights off, wants to fall asleep memorizing how Mitch is looking at him, tonight.

“Hey,” Mitch whispers, teasing. “Really?”

 Auston nods, very serious. “Really,” he says, and Marns presses their foreheads together, and all in all, Auston decides, it’s a pretty good night.


End file.
